What If Prank Master
by restive nature
Summary: This story, is just an offshoot of what might have happened in my other story WiC. It’s time to end the war of wars.
1. Prank Master

Series Title: What If…

Chapter Title: Prank Master

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: Soft R

Genre: Crossover

Type: Humor

Pairing: None

Summary: It's time to end the war of wars.

Spoilers/ Timeline: This story takes place when the kids are all still young. In Chapter 19 of "When It Changes", Sam and Dean have started another prank war that John and Max refused to get involved with.

Feedback: Always welcome.

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as _When It Changes_, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what **might **have happened.

A/N2: **Warning!** This story alludes to homosexual acts (there's no Wincest here though). Please be aware that there is no actual sex taking place, but if even the thought turns you off, please don't read any further.

"There you go!" John announced as he finished writing out the last of the two notes. He folded them over and slid each into an envelope and sealed them. Notations didn't matter since they both said the same thing. Once he finished, he handed over the notes to his daughter. "You know what you're going to say?"

"I've got a pretty good idea," Max replied as she took the papers. With an enigmatic smile, Max slid them into her jacket pocket, along with the other items she needed. She stood and headed for the door of the diner. "See you in fifteen?"

"I'll be there," John confirmed. Max sailed out the door, heading back to the nearby motel. It was time to end the war of wars.

Sam cautiously squirted the supposed toothpaste onto his finger. He waited a moment, but felt no burning on his digit. Next, he tasted it with the tip of his extended tongue. Again, no burning aside from the usual burst of sting from the strong peppermint flavor. It was toothpaste all right. Confident, Sam went ahead with brushing his teeth, but still his eyes darted around, trying to seek out where the next trap was laid. He stilled when he heard a door opening, but relaxed again when he heard Max's voice calling to him. "I'm in the bathroom," he called back through the closed door.

"Well hurry up," she cried out, impatient. "Wake up Dean!"

Sam heard his older brother groan as he finished brushing. Older brother sure did like his sleep. After a final rinse of water, Sam wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, gathered up toothbrush and toothpaste, since you couldn't just leave them unattended with Dean on the loose and exited the bathroom.

"What's up?" he asked as he deposited his belongings in his duffel bag.

"Have a seat," Max directed, gesturing to the bed that Dean was sitting up in, the covers pooled across his lap.

"What's goin' on?" Dean asked through a yawn. Max waited until he'd finished his morning stretch.

"First," she began, "I got to tell ya, Dad's getting pretty tired of your little prank war."

"So?" Dean smirked, his eyes twinkling devilishly. In the night, he'd come up with some more great pranks to hit Sammy with and couldn't wait to try them out.

"So-o," Max drawled, pulling some items from her jacket pockets, "I'm supposed to give you these." She checked to make sure that each male received the correctly labeled items. "And these." The envelopes containing the notes written from John were deposited in their hands.

"That's it?" Dean continued to smirk. A tape cassette and a note? That was the big threat?

"That's it," Max nodded. "And hurry up; we'll be heading out right away." With that she carried herself out the door, gently shutting it only to lean against it to better hear the coming fireworks.

The boys watched her leave and then glanced at one another. With barely discernable shrugs, they both turned their attention to the missives they each held.

Dean had his open first, pulling out the folded note. With thumb and forefinger, he flipped it open and read:

_This is it! This prank war stops now! I'm sure that the contents of these tapes will convince you that any pranks pulled in the next year from this date will have dire consequences. You will not like going public!_

_Dad_

Dean frowned. What on earth? What kind of blackmail did the old man have that was that vile? Well, there was only one way to find out. Dean leaned over the bed, retrieving his Walkman from his duffel bag. He noticed that Sammy was doing likewise with his bag. It was easy enough to slip the tape in and press play. But what came next was excruciating.

"_Dean Does Dallas… Scene Three… Take Twelve,"_ came a velvety smooth voice. Dean's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure this out. There was a crackle and then the moans that followed had his eyes widening in alarm. They were deep and throaty and definitely familiar sounding.

"What the hell?" he bit off.

"_That's right Dean baby," _came a different voice, definitely masculine.

"_Uh, more… harder!"_ That was definitely his voice.

"_No! Cut! Cut!"_ the first voice was heard again. _Sorry guys, the camera angle was wrong. It must have been bumped."_

"_That's okay man,"_ the second voice said even as Dean heard his own agreement on the tape.

"_You guys still good?"_ the first voice asked.

"_Oh hell, I can do this all night long,"_ Dean heard himself brag.

"_That's my good little bitch,"_ laughed the second voice.

"_Oh fuck you!"_ Tape-Dean was chuckling.

"_Don't mind if you do,"_ the second voice shot right back.

"_All right guys,"_ the first voice interrupted with a laugh. _"Save it for the camera. The angle's fixed; we're ready to roll again. Okay, Dean Does Dallas, scene three, take thirteen. Action!"_

There were quiet muffled noises and then… _"Oh yeah!" Just like that!"_ Dean heard himself groaning on the tape.

"_Okay, cue Jake,"_ came the first voice. There was the sound of a door opening and shutting.

And then a new voice announced, _"Well now I know why you cut out of football practice early."_ A pause. _"You know, I could use something to take the edge off. I'm all… sweaty and tense."_

"_Well then c'mere,"_ Dean's voice instructed on the tape. _"Get your little ass over here and let me take care of that."_

There were more muffled noises and then the second voice again. _"That's right Dean. Suck him good. God, you're such a horny little bitch, aren't you?"_

Oh God! Was that… slurping?

Max didn't have long to wait.

"What the hell?" That was Dean.

"Oh no! What-?" That was Sam.

"No! No! Nononononono! NO!"

"Oh my God, oh my God!"

Silence.

"Did you…? Was yours…?" Dean seemed to be having trouble with coherent complete sentences.

"No! No!" Sam denied vehemently. "I've never… That wasn't… me. Oh God… So disgusting." A trouble that Sam seemed to be sharing.

"Well of course not!" Dean announced disgustedly. "But how…"

"He taped us," Sam surmised. "But when…?"

"It wasn't when I…!" Definite alarm from Dean.

"Of course not! You really think Dad would follow and…?"

"Well he did this!"

"Oh for cryin' out loud Dean, it's the digital age. Give me a computer and some tapes and I can do the same thing! Um, not that I would, I mean…!"

"Oh my God! No, no! He can't have. Dad can barely work a toaster."

Another pause.

"You don't think Dad hired someone, do you?" Sammy's voice sounded even younger than usual.

"Damn it! I don't know!" Dean roared. Max heard him groan. "I'm just wondering what he means about 'going public'?"

"Well… well obviously, he'd uh… he'd give these to someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Bobby? Caleb? Uh… Pastor Jim?"

"No! No, oh hell no! He wouldn't, would he? Nonononono!"

"No I… oh man! Girls Dean!"

"What?"

"Didn't he say before? Girls Dean!"

"Oh fuck. We're dead."

"B-but… I haven't ever…!"

"I know Sammy."

"I mean I want to… but-!"

"I know Sammy."

"But how can I…?"

"I KNOW Sammy!"

Another pause.

"You're right Dean, we're dead."

"Wait, wait, wait! Here's what we'll do. Give me that!"

"No! Dean, no!"

"I'm not gonna listen to it idiot!" Dean growled while an obvious tussle ensued. "Like I'd ever want to hear you perform any sexual acts, let alone gay ones. It's bad enough when you wank off in the bathroom."

"You heard that!"

"The whole motel heard. Give me the tape!"

Dean obviously won the match as Sam was groaning. But the next sound Max heard was crunching. Perhaps plastic under a certain heel?

"Here's what we'll do Sammy. Listen! No more pranks for what? The next year. That's fine! But when that year is up, we'll get Dad. We'll plan something so heinous, but we won't do it."

"Huh?"

"No, we'll let him find out and then we'll use it to get any and all copies of those… those things back. But until then, best behavior and not ONE WORD to anyone! Deal?"

"Deal! Truce?"

"Truce!"

And it was just in time. She heard the slaps of their hands as they shook on their deal, just as John was pulling in. With a delicious grin, she pushed away from where she was leaning. She waited for John to pull to a stop and then climbed into the front seat.

"So?" John asked, turning in his seat to focus on his daughter. "Did it work?"

"I'd say so," Max confirmed with a grin.

"No more pranks?"

"For the next year? No." Max paused deliberately. "But they're planning some retribution when that year is up."

"Typical," John snorted, "Well, I better go get us checked out." He turned away and climbed out of the car. With a worried look, he ducked his head back down to regard her. "Do I even want to know what was on those tapes?"

Max thought back on what she'd just heard and then flashed back to the week they'd spent in Frisco. Thought about the closet gay porn star whose house she'd ripped off, thereby discovering his secret. That little discovery, an anonymous hiring of him and some of his co-workers and the thousand dollars she'd dropped on the project were tough. Getting the boys was a little harder. But a hidden microphone and tape recorder while hunting and at the motels, some excellent desserts and unsuspected foot rubs had brought the project along. In the end it was all worth it. Peace and quiet, at least for the next year. But still…

"No dad," she smiled. "You really don't want to know."


	2. Do Dallas? What? Huh!

Series Title: What If…

Chapter Title: Do Dallas What? Huh!

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-15 for language and references to non explicit adult material.

Genre: Crossover

Type: Humor

Pairing: None

Summary: No retribution…

Spoilers/ Timeline: This story takes place when the kids are all still young. In Chapter 19 of "When It Changes", Sam and Dean have started another prank war that John and Max refused to get involved with. It is the sequel to Prank Master.

Feedback: Always welcome.

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as WiC, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what _might_ have happened.

_7 Months Later…_

"Would you just listen to me?" Max yelled after her eldest brother.

"No. Uh uh," Dean called back over his shoulder as he climbed out of the Impala.

"Dean! You don't know everything!" she yelled as she scrambled out of the car as well. She slammed the car door shut deliberately, her anger at being ignored very much in evidence. It also rankled that her deliberate mistreatment of the car didn't seem to register with him. He just breezed into the motel, leaving the door open for her. She stomped in after him, slamming the motel door as well.

"What the hell is the matter?" John demanded, glancing up from his research.

"Ah, Maxie just has her panties in a twist 'cause I'm right and she's wrong."

"I am not!" she shrieked indignantly, throwing herself down beside Sam.

"Ah, don't worry Maxie," Dean cooed, coming over to pat her on the head. "Just face it. I'm smarter than you are. At least on this subject."

"Go to hell!" Max yelled, taking a swipe at the offending hand rubbing her head.

"Hey!" John barked out. "Language!"

"Well tell him to leave me alone," Max complained, even though she'd always shunned having John run interference for her.

"Dean, leave her alone," John commanded tiredly.

"Oh but she's so much fun when she's all full of sunshine like this," he announced in a sickly sweet voice from right behind her. Max whirled to take another swing at him and Dean wisely ducked backwards.

"That's enough!" their father's tone was one of a parent who had definitely had his or her fill of antics. Obligingly, Dean turned away with a snicker.

"Don't mind him," Sam sympathized quietly. "He's just being his typical infantile, insufferable, jerky self."

"Yes he is," Max agreed fervently, thinking about that statement. In truth though, it seemed like Dean had been getting worse. At least there hadn't been any… Oh lord!

Max felt herself grow excited as she made the connections. No pranks! Dean couldn't pull any pranks so he'd stepped up the teasing to fill his inexplicable desire to torment his siblings. And now, Max had a way to get him back with absolutely no retribution on her whatsoever. She wanted to hug Sam, but held herself back. She certainly didn't want to give herself away at this point.

Max waited patiently a few days, needing a moment or two when it was just she and Dean. It came finally, when Sam and John had gone to retrieve some information.

With a careful mix of innocence and curiosity, she reached into her duffel bag and withdrew a single white envelope.

"What on earth?" she asked quietly, just loud enough to get Dean's attention.

"What?" he asked distractedly from where he was watching television.

"I don't know," she replied as she slid her finger under the flap that she herself had sealed just days ago. She took a seat beside her brother as she pulled the card stock from the envelope. She let herself read the three simple words typewritten in a bold font. "That's stupid," she snorted.

"What?" Dean repeated absently.

"'_Dean Does Dallas'_," she read. "What does that mean? What'd you do in Dallas?"

"What!" This time the word was an electrifying roar. Max glanced up at her brother. His face had gone deathly white and absolutely still.

"Seriously Dean," Max continued to bug at him. "What's up with Dallas?"

"Nothing!" Dean whimpered, reaching for the card she held, but she held it out of his reach. "Where'd you get that?"

"It was in my bag."

"Well it's not for you!" he snapped.

"How would you know?" Max taunted. "There was no name on the envelope. Besides, it was in _my_ bag. What is the big deal about Dallas?"

"Nothing," Dean snapped. "I've never been there. And we'll never go there, will we?"

"It's just a strange way to say it," Max tried for pensive, tapping her finger on the paper.

"No it's not," Dean denied vehemently. "There's nothing about Dallas!"

"Jeeze Dean, blow a gasket," Max chuckled. "God, whose panties are in a twist now?"

The words had a new effect on Dean. He stilled again, staring at her contemplatively. "Dad!" The words came out softly, almost hypnotically.

"Huh?" Max goggled delightedly at her sibling. This was going well. It was at that moment that they heard the Impala pull up. Flustered, Dean yanked the card from her hand and tore it up. He threw the remnants in the garbage canister.

"Not one word!" he hissed at her. Max stared at him, taken aback. Were the tapes really that bad? Aside from writing up the accompanying script for the actors to use and create the tape from, Max had no idea. She'd never had the nerve to fully listen to them. She watched as Dean leapt to his feet as their father entered the room.

Outside they could hear the Impala still running.

"I didn't do anything!" Dean denied vehemently and wildly before John could even say anything.

"Okay," his father drawled, unsure as to what was going on.

"And I wasn't planning on doing anything!"

"All right." John's glance strayed momentarily to Max, trying to garner some clue as to what his eldest was blathering about. Dean however, interpreted it much differently.

"Oh I see," his chuckle was an attempt at smoothness that fell flat, denied by his obvious desperation to be believed. "I didn't break the rules."

"I know," John concurred, still mystified yet trying to pacify Dean.

"Okay," Dean nodded once. "Just so that's cleared up." He snapped his fingers and one could almost see the little light bulb going off over his head. "So, who's up for some gourmet lunch? Huh? Sammy and I'll go get it. My treat!" And with that, he'd snagged his wallet off the table and had hightailed it out the door.

"What the hell was that about?" John demanded once the roar of the Impala's engine had faded away.

"He pissed me off," Max smiled, satisfied at the mischief she'd gotten into.

"I can see that," John smirked, raising a single eyebrow at her attitude. Max returned the look and sauntered off, pulling a book from her duffel bag.

"I'm going to take a bath. Let me know when they get back."

"I will," John promised. He shook his head and by luck, happened to notice some paper on the floor. Sure that it hadn't been there before, he stooped over to pick it up. Turning over the heavy cardstock, he could make out a D-E in heavy typewritten letters. Checking the wastebasket, he found many similar pieces of torn paper.

John stared at the pieces for a moment, wondering, and thinking. Perhaps he'd found a clue to his son's behavior after all. Quickly checking that the bathroom door was shut, John gathered up the pieces of card. It took him a few minutes to get them ordered properly and he was surprised by what he read. What could it mean? Considering that Max and Dean had been alone when this card had to have made its appearance, one of them if not both had something to do with it. Judging from Dean's panic, he'd say the mastermind was Max. Just like she'd been the one to stop the prank war. Was this somehow related to that? Given Dean's assertions that he hadn't broken the rules, John was quite sure that it was. And naturally, though he'd never seen the film that the title was obviously taken from, but being aware of that genre of films, John could easily hazard a guess as to what type of general threat or blackmail Max had come up with.

Even as he was dismayed by his sweet little girl having any kind of knowledge about _that_, he was still proud of the brilliance of what she'd accomplished. And the boys still thought that it was John. So in the end, it would be John paying the piper of that devious little mind at work.

Well maybe not. After all, they'd all learned their deviousness from somewhere…


	3. Sudden Death

Series Title: What If…

Chapter Title: Sudden Death

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.

Rating: PG-15 for language and reference to adult material.

Genre: Crossover

Type: Humor

Pairing: None

Summary: He who laughs last…

Spoilers/ Timeline: This story takes place when the kids are all still young. In Chapter 19 of "When It Changes", Sam and Dean have started another prank war that John and Max refused to get involved with. This is the end of the _Prank Master_ trilogy and takes place after _Do Dallas What? Huh!_

Feedback: Always welcome.

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as _When It Changes_, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what **might **have happened.

"So what do you think of that old man?" Dean smirked mightily at his father, looking over the chair that John was seated in, his arms crossed over his chest, his feet in a wide stance.

John watched his son, cataloging the glimmers running through his son's face but most especially his eyes. The boy was projecting a strong, confident mien. But there, deep in his eyes, there was just a little something. Apprehension, perhaps? His gaze flickered just momentarily to his younger brother and John allowed his gaze to follow. Ever since they'd caught him seemingly off guard and ran through the gamut of the end result of their retribution scheme that John had been aware of for quite some time, Sam had been silent.

John had focused on Dean, since that was where the verbal threats were coming from. But now that he looked at Sam, he had to hold back a snicker. The boy was about near shaking in his boots. This meant that this whole shebang was Dean's idea. Well, John knew that. Sam wasn't that vindictive. Nor that imaginative. But he was here and going along with it. Which meant that either he was pretty pissed with his father, when technically he shouldn't be, since it was never John in the first place that had done this to them. Or that he was that scared of his brother turning on him and including him in the retribution category. Maybe both.

He turned back to his eldest. So, what did he think of their little scheme. On the whole, it would have been pretty good, in a seriously bad way. And if John had any of the blackmail material the boys thought he did, he would have been seriously tempted to hand it over immediately. But he didn't. There had, as far as he knew, never been more than just those two tapes Max had procured, one for each boy. But he was quite sure that they wouldn't believe him if he told them. Max had just been too good at covering her ass, leaving him to hold the bag. And also leaving him no choice.

"What I think," he finally drawled as his fingers dipped into his shirt pocket for his cell phone, "is Speed Dial Three." Time to resort to the back-up plan. It was much better than his original plan, which was to hope like hell that the boys forgot about all this crap.

Dean's brows furrowed together as he took in his father. John stretched out his hand, offering the cell phone and Dean reluctantly took it. Still warily eying his father, he carefully dialed as John had instructed. The phone rang several times before he was connected.

"Hello?" a familiar voice answered.

"Caleb?" Dean whispered.

"Hey Dean!" the other man greeted him cheerfully enough. "What's up? You're not calling about this videotape are you?"

"V-videotape?" Dean sputtered out, completely caught off guard. "W-what the hell?"

"Yeah," Caleb confirmed with a chuckle. "Your Dad sent me a tape called _Dean Does Dallas_. Something you been wanting to share with me boy?"

Dean's face didn't have time to run through the normal shade of paling, to embarrassment and so on. He was green instantly. John pressed his lips together, trying not to smirk. "Y-you haven't…?"

"Watched it?" Caleb asked easily. "Nah. Got it and a note from your Dad several months ago. Not supposed to watch it unless I get word about it from him or Maxie."

Relief seemed to swoop through the eldest Winchester offspring. "Caleb, you need to destroy that tape. Right now! You hear me! Destroy it!"

Laughter.

"Why the hell would I want to destroy it?" Caleb demanded. "Sounds like it could be a laugh. _Dean Does Dallas_," he chortled again at the title. "I mean, I imagine it's not quite my thing, but I know this hot little senorita that's into that sort of stuff. Really gets her motor revved, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I-!" Dean really, really looked sick.

"Anyway, I gotta go," Caleb sighed. "Tell your Dad to give me a call. Or not." He chuckled again. "You know what I mean. Later Dean."

"Yeah, later," Dean whispered in reply. He very carefully pulled the phone away from his ear, pressed the end call button and snapped the phone shut. Gently, he laid the cell phone on the bed that he was leaning against.

"Dean?" Sam asked from behind John, but the older man didn't bother to turn around and look. He could hear the hesitancy in his younger son's voice. "Are you okay?"

Dean ran a hand across his forehead and John could see the beads of sweat rolling down his son's face. "You bastard," Dean whispered shakily, but at the same time, there was an edge of admiration in the boy's voice. "When did you…?"

"Several months ago," John smiled broadly. Of course, what Dean and Sam didn't know, and what John would never tell them was that he had simply sent a note to Caleb. In it he had outlined his plan in case the boys tried for retribution. And that was it. No cassette tape, no video tape. Just a simple note asking Caleb to do him this favor. And from the sounds of it, Caleb had executed Plan B perfectly. Oh, John was so going to owe him for this, but he'd take care of that later.

"What?" Sam was asking now, unaware of what had gone down to a degree. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. "What's going on Dean?"

"Dad here had a back-up plan," Dean explained without taking his eyes of his father's smirking form. "He already sent out the material to Caleb."

"And Bobby," John threw in for good measure, even though it was a lie. "But he'll play dumb about it until I give him the go ahead." There, that would keep them guessing.

Dean's head dropped into his hands with a groan. "Why?" he moaned. "What did we ever do to you?"

The corner of John's mouth quirked up as he recalled what his daughter had said about it. "You pissed me off," he replied simply. He waited a moment, ready to drive this thing home. "So, what are you going to do now boy?"

Dean shook his head, still hanging low. "We give up," he whispered.

The words were music to John's ear, but, "what was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"I said we give up," Dean snorted, finally looking at his father again. "You win old man." John breathed in the sweet aroma of success. He stood and clapped Dean once on the shoulder.

"And that son, is why you never, ever mess with the Prank Master," he declared. He picked up his coat from where it was laying on the bed and sauntered genially past Sam over to the door. He opened the door and turned for one last parting shot. "Or for that matter, _her_ assistant."

The looks of stunned incredulity on their faces as they realized what he was saying were ones that John would savor for the rest of his life.


End file.
